Rebel Red
by PutAnotherX
Summary: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, the Hope and Heir to the Tribe of the Hairy Hooligans was murdered by dragons five years ago. Now a mysterious figure hops from island to island on the back of a deadly Night Fury. Chief Stoick the Vast has chosen a new heir after all this time. He has also chosen a bride for that heir.
1. Landing

It starts with a whisper in the dark. Just weeks after 15-year-old Hiccup Haddock's death, dragon attacks on his homeland of Berk all but cease. Legends tell of his spirit protecting his home. Those who wander the forests of Berk after the sun sets claim to see the boy's spirit for themselves, but it is always gone before anyone can look twice. Rumors of a dark figure atop a Night Fury, cloaked in the cover of night pass from island to island, tribe to tribe just months later.

* * *

Astrid digs her axe out of the tree's mangled trunk, five years later. The trees around her all bear the same scars as their brother, carved there by years of meticulous practice for the battle Astrid will never see. She launches it at another tree, a mere fraction of her anger leaving her body in a desperate growl. Her parent's words echo in her head, each time hammering home the end of her freedom, the end of her life and her dreams. The sun sinks more quickly with each passing minute, but she makes no moves toward the village even as darkness closes around her. She throws her ax at the trees around her, her frustration behind every single launch. Each one hits harder than the last. Finally, she puts all she has behind one last throw and releases a feral scream as she falls to her knees. Hot tears escape her eyes despite her best efforts.

* * *

"Astrid, dear, you mustn't shout," her mother said, far too calmly for Astrid's liking.

"Oh, I mustn't shout?" she shouted. "You want me to marry Snotlout!"

"Astrid," her father said, stern weight pressed into his voice, "you will marry Snotlout. For the good of Berk."

"Says who?" she challenged.

"Says the chief, girl." Her mother slammed down her mending, fixing Astrid with a bone-chilling glare she'd never seen her mother wear.

* * *

Astrid's world lights up in purple-blue fire with the tragic shriek of a struck dragon. The beast smashes through trees and slams into the ground, its momentum carrying it just a few hundred feet from her. She hastily wipes the cooling tears from her face. Her feet carry her automatically to her axe, still lodged in the tree. It takes most of her strength to remove the newly sharpened blade from the damaged wood, but it releases suddenly.

She's on the dragon in seconds, following her instincts to lift the ax above her head. It lines up with the dragon's neck, but Astrid hesitates despite all her training. She's never actually killed a dragon. She's never even really seen one this close. At least, not in years.

"Don't." The man's voice, weak and thin, startles her, and she nearly drops her ax. "Don't hurt him. Please." Clinging to the dragon's back, the man wears a helmet like none Astrid has ever seen. He's tall and lean. His clothes are leather decorated with scratched paintings of the very dragon at her feet, black and curled around itself. For no good reason, Astrid listens to him. She slowly drops her ax to the ground and sidesteps at a glacial pace around the beast.

"Are you hurt?" she asks, sinking carefully to her knees beside his head. He seems to have given up on standing, or even lifting himself off the ground. She sees his left arm going under the dragon's body.

"I don't know," he answers after a second. There's something terribly familiar about his voice that she can't quite place. "Would you even help me if I were?"

Astrid doesn't respond because she doesn't know the answer. She realizes with a start that her hand is resting on the inky black scales of the dragon's side, but she makes no move to change it. She feels the beast's deep breaths in and out under her fingers. For no good reason, she isn't scared at all.

"It's a Night Fury," she says, her eyes never leaving the dragon. The man nods.

"You've seen one?" he asks. She nods.

"Once. Does that make you the Dragon Master?" Astrid finds herself petting the beast without fear. His head tilts to the left.

"Is that what they call me these days?" There's the barest hint of amusement in his voice, as if it's all a clever joke that he's stuck under a Night Fury.

"Can I take off your helmet?" she asks. "You could be hurt under there." He seems to hesitate before he nods. She's as gentle as she can be, a hand on each side of the helmet as she pulls it free. Her breath leaves her when she sees his face. "Hiccup?"

"Hey, Astrid," Hiccup says. His green eyes stand out clearly from his soot-smeared face. "It's good to see you again."

* * *

A/N: Reuploaded because I accidentally included part of a scrapped concept here the first time around. Hopefully that clears up some confusion.


	2. Reunion

"You're back." Astrid whispers it almost reverently. Her hands find his cheeks and start smearing the soot and ash around. "I thought for sure you were really dead this time."

"Turns out I'm pretty hard to kill," Hiccup jokes, smiling conspiratorially as she tries in vain to clean his face. Toothless huffs and rolls off him, but he stays on the ground. Toothless shakes off what he can and sits back on his haunches to begin the process of cleaning himself off with discontented grumbles.

"It's been over a year," she says with a scowl. "No letter, no visit, not even a sighting anywhere near Berk." His smile falters under her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I should have sent word. I've been busy."

"Are you going to stand up?" she asks. She doesn't quite feel like dignifying his excuse with a response.

"I would, but I think my leg is broken." He says it so casually that she almost misses it.

"Excuse me," she demands, her voice reverberating through the trees. All three of them wince. Her voice lowers. "Which one?"

"Umm," Hiccup wavers, "both?"

* * *

Astrid pulls the rags tight around the makeshift splint before she ties a strong knot. She ignores Hiccup's wince, feeling the tiniest bit vindicated for her year-long wait. She's gotten a bit too good at patching him up for her liking. It happened more than a handful of times throughout those five years everyone else thought him dead. Toothless has made himself comfortable, burning himself a bed in the grass of the grotto.

"Are you still angry?" Hiccup asks her, his hands gripping the boulder underneath him hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

"About what?" Astrid asks, bitter venom dripping from her voice. "You leaving me alone for more than a year? You getting shot down by who-knows-what? Or maybe breaking your real leg, forcing me to steal more supplies from Gothi and patch you up again while simultaneously leaving you and Toothless stuck here for months while you recover, which, as you know, leaves you both vulnerable?" Hiccup flinches again.

"Yes?" He offers her a sheepish smile. "I can still leave, you know. I just have to fix Toothless's tail fin." He withers under the glare she shoots him. "Or I can stay here to recover," he corrects himself.

Astrid's ice melts as she finishes the splint, leaving her exhausted. She sits back on her heels and twists to lean against the rock he's sitting on. She can feel the tension between them hanging over her head. Hiccup lowers himself gingerly to the ground beside her, careful not to jostle his broken leg. The metal of his prosthetic is still bent, but it will take a lot more work than either of them can do tonight to fix it.

"Astrid," he sighs. He pushes his shoulder against hers. "I really am sorry."

"Save it," she says. If he weren't hurt, she would have pushed him in the pond by now. "I thought you were dead."

"Would it help if I had a really good excuse?" he asks. He adjusts himself until he's leaning on her. She gets the urge to shove him, but she stifles it for the good of his broken bones.

"No."

"Would it help if I brought you something?" He looks at Toothless, snoring a few feet away. "It's in the saddle bag."

Astrid huffs melodramatically, but she goes to retrieve the gift. Among the tools and parts for Toothless's tail fin and Hiccup's prosthetic lies a small bag made of hide and cinched closed with a leather cord. Rather than open it there, she returns to lean against Hiccup. She can feel him smile as she sits.

"Before you open it," he says, "I know it's been a long time. I know that the way I left and how long I've been gone made it seem like I was running, but I promise I have a good explanation for everything."  
She pulls the bag open and pulls out a brass pendant. It's intricately decorated in the Viking fashion, with Runic knots along the top of each side and on the bottom middle, a Viking and a dragon mirror each other in the center.

"What is it?" she asks. She turns it in her hand.

"A promise," he says slowly. "My father gave it to my mother." He hesitates, carefully choosing his next words. "As a betrothal gift." Astrid freezes. Panic crawls up her throat.

"Is that what it means to you?" Her voice is quiet. If he weren't sitting right next to her, he would never have heard.

"Only if that's what you want," he answers, just as quietly. He doesn't look at her, just stares at his hands in his lap.

She stays silent, staring at the charm in her hand.

"I know it's kinda dumb," he says by way of explanation, "really dumb, maybe, to propose marriage to you after what happened last we saw each other. But a lot has happened since then, and I realized that I—" He swallows thickly, and she can feel his shoulders move wildly the way they do every time he speaks. "I love you, Astrid. I want to be with you forever. Whatever that takes." He still doesn't look at her.

"You mean that?" she asks.

"Of course." He finally meets her eyes. She reaches up to cup his cheek, feels the stubble there underneath the dirt from impact. She loves the way his eyebrows fly up when she kisses him.

"I love you, too, Hiccup," she says. "I'll marry you."

Guilt settles in her stomach, but she smiles and kisses him again.

"So Hiccup," she starts.

"Mmm?" he hums.

"New helmet?"


End file.
